Carpe Diem
by Coconabanana
Summary: Gakuen Hetalia/Police AU. Sergeant Arthur Kirkland, now an Interpol agent, had to masquerade as a student in Hetalia Academy to find the two notorious thieves who have caused nothing but troubles. Will he complete the mission? Eventual Alfred/Arthur.
1. Act I: The Beginning

**Title**:: Carpe Diem

**Fandom**:: Axis Powers Hetalia

**Character(s)**:: Arthur Kirkland, Alfred F. Jones, Gilbert Weillschmidt, Francis Bonnefoy, Robert Kirkland, and too many other characters that I think I'd die if I list everyone here.

**Pairing(s)**:: Eventual Alfred/Arthur and implied all pairings you could possibly think of… probably.

**Rating**:: PG-13, for now.

**Genre**: Humour/Romance

**Chapter ****Word count**::1755

**Total Word Count**:: 1755

**Warning**: It's AU of Gakuen Hetalia AU, language [what do you expect if there's Arthur?], there'll be boy love scattered all around eventually, ignore any historical/political inaccuracies if there's any reference to it, OCs in later chapters, rating might go up some chapters in the future, and it's going to be a long, long ride, people. Tread with caution.

**Disclaimer**: All of the characters of Axis Powers Hetalia are not mine.

**A/N**: My second multi-chaptered fic project (the first one being the sadly discontinued Katekyo Hitman Reborn TYL!AU) and the first multi-chaptered story for Hetalia. This one was actually written quiet some time ago, but I only just able to post it now. I'm… uh, still working on the France/Jeanne piece for 'If I Tell You I Love You' one-shot series. I just have some trouble with the ending. *hides*.

Anyway, I'll stop my babble and let all of you start reading this. Comments, reviews, and critiques are definitely appreciated.

**Beta'd by**; the awesomest of all awesome people I know, ExpressoLatte.

* * *

**Act I: The Beginning**

_No matter where you go_

_No matter how much you want to go_

_No matter how many times you say you want to be free_

_I will always be the one to catch you_

_I will always be the one to hold you back_

_I will always be the one to love you more_

_Because you're forever mine…_

… _and no one else's_

0o0o0o0

"_This is Green. I am nearing the targets. Have the assault team on standby. Over."_

Sliding the walkie-talkie back into the side pouch, Arthur Kirkland squint his eyes and pulled out his gun from the holster. His sharp emerald eyes quickly scanned the whole area for anything out the ordinary as he tried to ease his breathing. The Briton had been explaining the strategy to capture the thieves when a loud explosion resounded from the museum. Within ten minutes, he found himself running around the place, trying to track the source of the explosion. A small scowl marred his features. Running certainly wasn't part of Arthur's schedule tonight-he wasn't exactly much of a runner.

After his breathing evened out, the young officer focused his mind again on finding the thieves that have once again tried to steal something from the Arts & Cultural museum. His grip on his gun tightened when he heard low murmurs coming from the far side of the room where plenty of sculptures were displayed.

"-told you, it's _**not**_ necessary!"

"But it's more smashingly awesome that way, Knight! I thought you liked being awesome!"

"I **am** awesome, you dolt-but I'm not stupid! What if the museum fucking explodes **for real**?"

"Er, but isn't this bomb just a decoy? Wouldn't it only produce a loud 'BANG'? And I need some distraction, Knight. This place is giving me the creeps."

Arthur could hear a loud smack, followed by a whimper from the back of a sculpture of man. He treaded his steps carefully and approached the two figures who were still bickering with each other.

"That's for being a moron, as usual. Now shut up and think about how we can move this thing out of here. What the hell were you thinking when you picked a sculpture to steal of all things? It's goddamn heavy."

The two figures crouching behind the display stood up, unaware that there was a gun pointed at their direction. Both men wore almost identical outfits-a black form-fitted shirt, leather jacket and leather pants and black leather gloves. The only differences between the two thieves were colour and logo of the cap and the half-mask used to cover their heads and faces.

"Stop, thieves! Put your hands up!" Arthur bellowed as he stepped into the room, when the thieves started to examine the glass covering the sculpture. One of the thieves, who sported a black cap with a New York Yankees logo and a white mask covering the top-half his face, screamed bloody murder and jumped behind his partner.

"I-It's a ghost, Knight! A GHOST!"

"Shut it, you coward! It's not a ghost! And you call yourself Hero!" His partner, Knight, who wore a similar white cap with a black cross embroidered on it and a black mask, smacked the other on the head. "It's just good old Sergeant Artie," he said mockingly, flashing a dazzling grin and dragged Hero to the front.

"Oh… Ehem!" Hero cleared his throat and regained his composure. "Ah, you're right! It is Arthur!"

"Put your hands up in the air and don't even try anything funny, thieves! The both of you are under arrest!" Arthur held out his gun with one hand and used the other to reach the handcuffs dangling on his belt.

"Ha!" Hero suddenly jumped and put a hand on his hip, ignoring Arthur's order. "Artie! I thought you'd never come! Here I was, thinking that you are going to just let us slide _again_ this time!"

Arthur could see Knight rolling his eyes and he couldn't help but mimic the thief's expression-Hero was acting like a child. "I said-don't make any weird movements! And don't call me Artie, you git!"

"Well fucking duh! I'll call you with whatever name I like. And you want to capture us? Try it in another million years! Ahahahahaha!"

"Fuck it, Hero! Don't be stupid and let's just get out of here," Knight said exasperatedly. He broke the glass covering the chest sculpture from the Renaissance era with his fist, setting off the alarm.

Arthur pulled the trigger and aimed a shot at Hero, who dodged and helped Knight to move the heavy object. Another bullet was released and Hero cursed when it hit the floor near his feet.

"You can take it yourself, Knight?" Hero asked his partner as he let go of the sculpture. Knight almost fell back with the sudden increase of weight and cursed. "I have to take care of Artie."

Without waiting for Knight's answer, Hero took out a small round shaped device from his pants' pocket and pointed it towards Arthur's direction and clicked it. A thin wire shot out of the device, catching the sergeant's legs.

"What the-"

"Hook, line and sinker~"

Hero pulled the wire with all his strength and Arthur fell backwards. The thief quickly strode forward and kicked the gun away from Arthur's hands.

Arthur let out a groan when his back met the floor, hard. His bum was hurting and couldn't breathe properly because of the impact. Hero was looming over him and had one foot planted firmly on his jugular, making it even more difficult for Arthur to breathe (he wore combat boots for God sake!). Hero's other foot was stepping on Arthur's right arm, leaving the green eyed man with only one hand to pry away the heavy foot on his chest.

"Nu-uh, Artie~" Hero began in a singsong voice, waving his forefinger and shaking his head mockingly at Arthur's futile attempts to shove his foot away. He leant down; Arthur was wincing in pain with the added pressure. "I told ya' already; try capturing us in another million years," he whispered as he ruffled Arthur's sandy blonde hair playfully.

"Get your hand _**off **_of my head, you bloody tosser!" Arthur hissed breathlessly. His emerald green eyes stared unblinkingly and defiantly up at the blonde with utmost hatred. He could feel his eyes starting to water because of the pain. "I swear I will put you two thieving bastards behind the bars!"

Hero smirked and stroked Arthur's chin with his gloved hand. "So rude~ Knight, the English just have the pottiest mouths, don't they?" He looked over his shoulder to his partner, who was struggling with balancing the white sculpture.

"Whatever! Just fucking deal with him! The police will find us soon and let me tell you this, Hero—it is so _**not**_going to be awesome at all if we're caught just because you can't stop playing with him!"

Hero chuckled and turned to Arthur again. He tilted the Briton's face upwards and leant closer until Arthur could see clearly those bright sky blue eyes. The thief moved his foot away from Arthur's chest and straddled the smaller man's stomach, his other foot still planted firmly on Arthur's upper right arm. He pinned Arthur's left wrist up above his head and gripped his face with his other hand. He forced Arthur to look at his face and smirked as Arthur's scowl deepened.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Artie~ Artie~" Hero shook his head dramatically. "Behave, Artie, behave. And then perhaps I shall release you. But seeing that you are so rebellious, I don't think I'll let you go anytime soon."

"Get off of me, you fucking thief!" Arthur started to thrash around, wriggling his hand free from Hero's grip. "You're a fucking jackass! A criminal! You're stealing the world's heritage and you think that you're awesome for this?! Bollocks!"

"Shut up!" Hero snapped at him.

"No, YOU shut up, git! Let go of me now! Or I'll… mmmffghhh?!"

Arthur could have sworn his heart stopped beating at the same moment his lips stopped moving because Hero had planted his face to his; their lips locked firmly. Arthur could feel his blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. The next second, Arthur thrashed even more violently, trying to turn his face away from the thief's.

"…Ugh, did you have to do that in front of my awesome presence, Hero?" Knight exclaimed from somewhere on the back side of the room.

The British officer continued to thrash wildly about, trying to break free and knock Hero's lights out. Suddenly, Arthur felt a wet tongue glided over his lower lip and his body went still. Hero pulled himself away from Arthur's face and smirked again. "Now, that's a good boy. You look cuter when you are nice and still, Artie." He ruffled Arthur's hair again and pinched the tip of his nose.

"Stop playing and let's go!" Knight yelled again.

"Yeah, yeah." Hero planted a chaste kiss to Arthur's cheek, causing him to flush even deeper. "See ya, Artie! I hope you can catch me the next time we meet!"

After the blue eyed thief cuffed Arthur's hands with the handcuffs, he stood up and ran towards Knight who was heaving the not so small sculpture out of the room.

"He's a guy! Are you crazy?" Knight yelled at Hero, who seemed to flinch a little under the tone of his voice. A dumbfounded Arthur blinked as he felt footsteps fast approaching the room. The assault team must have jumped right into action when the alarm sounded.

"He didn't want to shut his mouth! And don't tell me that shit like _you_ never did that to any _guy_ either. I know you're…" Hero's voice grew softer as the both thieves moved out of the room, out of Arthur's hearing and finally, gone, probably already out of the museum.

Meanwhile, Arthur could only lay still on the cold marbled museum's floor, with both his hands and legs tied securely as he waited for his men to come and help him. Arthur could feel his blood boiling as he cursed like a sailor under his breath. Not only was he was humiliated (that fucking thief _kissed_ him!), he also failed to catch those two again. _**Those two bloody idiots will pay dearly for this, especially that dingbat who calls himself 'Hero',**_ Arthur thought, fury radiating off his whole being. He swore to God, to the Queen of England, and to everything that was holy, he would never, _**ever**_, let this humiliation be.

* * *

**Endnote**: Euh? What is this? How did it come out like this? Aha, haha…*nervous laugh* -sigh- At least I tried? I'm sorry if it's too short. This is just the beginning anyway.

Yes, yes. You guys must have guessed who the thieves are already with the aliases. XD;;.

And the quote at the beginning is a '_some-kind-of-poem-but-not-really-a-poem_' I wrote a while ago for my eljay header. And it's posted here with the title 'Love You Too Much'.

Review? Comment? Critique? Throw it to my face~


	2. Act II: The Plan

**Disclaimer**: I'd never dare claim any ownership for The City of London Police, the Interpol or Hetalia. I don't want to be captured by those men in black, kthnxbai.

**Beta'd by**: My dear partner in sin/crime/happiness/whatnots, **ExpressoLatte**. You rock my fic writing world.

**A/N**: You guys are making me one happy fic writer. 8'D. Cannot express my gratitude for all of your responses (both in and LiveJournal). THANK YOU! Love you guys. /brb grinning like an idiot. Anyway, here comes the next chapter. It'll be a little bit boring, but longer than the first chapter. Hopefully, with the combination of my writing skill and the awesome editing by my beta, you guys will love it as much as the first chapter. Enjoy~

**Chapter word count**: 2505  
**Total word count**: 4260

* * *

**Act II: The Plan**

"Haaaah…" Arthur sighed for the fifth time of the day, causing his fellow colleagues around him at the table to glance at each other before looking back at him briefly and back to their respective lunches and conversations.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" asked one of the men suddenly. "You have been acting a little strange lately. Is there something wrong?

Arthur responded with a quick, strained smile and a shake of his head before resuming in going through the report papers he had been writing on the whole day-specifically, the report on the recent robbery that took place in the museum of Arts & Culture. Once again, the notorious thieves-who called themselves the Awesome Knight and the Amazing Hero respectively (Arthur couldn't help but let out a derisive snort at their names-seriously, how big were their egos?)-had pulled off yet another successful heist.

Arthur just couldn't believe that the two thieves slipped from the tight security the City of London Police had put in the museum _again_. You see, Arthur was the leading sergeant in the investigations of this case and he had never once succeeded in catching the thieves. It only served to aggravate him further when he remembered what that bloody git did.

In short, Arthur's temper was at its breaking point-his colleagues were smart enough to know that they were threading on thin ice and generally left him alone, although occasionally they would pop by and ask him casually about the progress of the case. The question would only earn them either of these two things; a deep scowl or an angry retort.

During this summer, the thieves had stolen a total of eight items from the museum, the eighth being a sculpture from the Renaissance era. Arthur was trying his best to capture the two men and retrieve the precious art pieces; he just didn't understand why the thieves always manage to slip away. What confused him even more was why he failed to capture the two thieves when the location and time were given away.

The constant failures to put the thieves behind bars despite the warnings given made Arthur felt he was a failed Sergeant and had failed the country. He always felt wary over how his superior would think about his poor performance. That was why he thought his heart almost leapt out of his chest when one of his colleagues informed him that the Commander called him.

"Hey! Arthur! The Commander wants to see you about the case you're handling. You'd better hurry though, he sounded a little pissed."

Arthur gulped. He managed to stand up without fidgeting or scampering his papers on the table, but it was so apparent that he was sweating buckets. He was as nervous as heck and didn't want to think about what the Commander would say to him. Surely he wouldn't be fired because of this, right?

He straightened his tie (he let out a wince as his hands brushed past the small bruise on his chest, caused by that _sodding wanker's_ foot) and took a deep breath before knocking on the Commander's office door. A low murmur of 'come in!' and he gulped again before turning the doorknob.

"Arthur Kirkland reporting, Sir!" Arthur saluted and waited until the swivel chair turned around to reveal a very tired looking Commander Germania Weillschmidt.

"Please sit, Sergeant Kirkland." The long haired older man said as he massaged his temple. "I see that the two thieves have once again successfully taken another item from the museum. Care to tell me the hows and whys?"

"I have included that part in the report, Sir. I just need to look over it again before passing it to you," he answered sternly and tried his best to look straight into Commander Weillschmidt's eyes. Arthur's cheeks were blushing as he remembered the things he had written in the report; he had deliberately left out the details about how the thieves had escaped and why he was left lying on the floor, hands and legs tied. "I'm deeply ashamed of my incapability to solve this case, Sir. But I swear I'll capture those two soon."

The Commander sighed deeply and closed his eyes for one moment. "The thieves have sent another calling card, Sergeant Kirkland." Commander Weillschmidt took a piece of folded paper from his drawer and handed it over to Arthur.

_Yo, stupid policemen!_

_Now all of you know how awesome we are, right?_

_Both of us think that there's nothing worth our attention anymore in that Arts & Culture museum of yours._

_However! _

_It doesn't mean that this is the end!_

_The fun has just begu__n, gentlemen!_

_We decided to change our target._

_Come to the International Academy of Hetalia and find us if you can!_

_The game plan: if you can find us before we take seven items from the school's amazing display of valuable art pieces, we'll gladly offer ourselves to you._

_If you can't, well, that just proves how not awesome you guys are and how awesome we are_.

_Will __never__ be yours truly,_

_**The Awesome Knight and the Amazing Hero**_

Arthur's bushy eyebrows twitched as he read the note. He could hear the obnoxious thieves' laughter inside his head when he read the last passage and it irritated him more. These thieves were making fun of the police! The nerve of them!

"International Academy of Hetalia is a boarding school in the United States of America where most of the children of world's ambassadors and consulate officers for the US are studying," Commander Weillschmidt began to explain. "The school is known for the various famous art and cultural pieces being displayed all around the school area. Most of the art pieces are gifts from these diplomats and they are very valuable."

"Tch! No wonder the gits are targeting the school," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"It seems like these two thieves have not only conducted their heists in the Great Britain. I just received some news about their appearance in some other European countries. This case is not just about the British anymore. It has become an international crime; their next target is an international school and the things that are being targeted belongs to the international art heritage. This is why the Interpol has taken over the case, Sergeant Kirkland," the Commander continued.

At this, Arthur's full attention was held completely, shock apparent on his face. His mouth was gaping; he couldn't say anything for one moment. This couldn't be happening. This was _his_ case! He knew he had not been showing a good performance but still, he wanted to capture those two sad excuses of those childish thieves with his own hands.

"Sir? But… I…"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say, Sergeant," interjected the Commander. "You've been leading the team to capture the thieves since the beginning and I know you will not like this case being taken away from you-which brings me to the reason why I called you here."

Arthur shut his gaping mouth and paid his attention fully on his blonde superior.

"You might have not known this but I, aside from being the Commander in the City of London Police, am also holding a commanding position in the Interpol. The case has been taken over by Interpol but it is still under my command. The Academy has tight security system because the enormous possibilities of being targeted by the terrorists and the students are not allowed to leave their dormitories or the school ground without any permission from the teachers. To gain access to the art pieces, the thieves have to be inside the school. I've sent one Interpol agent from headquarter to the school to observe the students and staffs because from the way the thieves wording their note, it is highly likely that the thieves are either students or staffs in the school."

"Do you mean to say that the thieves are possibly children of the diplomats, sir?"

"It's not unlikely. The summer vacation will be over soon and the students should be coming back to school next week on Monday. What a coincidence that the thieves have decided to switch targets, no?" The Commander smiled as he saw the look of understanding dawned upon Arthur's face. "The thieves are possibly the Academy's students and they have been spending their holidays all around Europe stealing things. The agent I've sent yesterday reported to me just now that there are no new students or staffs in the school and that could only mean one thing-the thieves are insiders in Hetalia Academy."

The inspector stopped talking for a while to sip his already cold tea before pulling out a thick folder from his drawer. He handed the folder to Arthur who eyed it with confusion.

"What is this, sir?"

"Your enrolment papers, Sergeant Kirkland."

"… My enrolment papers?"

"I'm transferring you to the Interpol, Sergeant. You are now an agent and will continue your work with this case."

"But these are enrolment papers for a _student_, Sir!" Arthur waved the papers at his superior's face. _This is getting ridiculous_, Arthur thought. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Commander Weillschmidt was insulting him. How could he possibly ask him to masquerade as a student?

"Well, I want you to pose as a new transfer student and find the thieves, Sergeant Kirkland. I heard that your father is a consul for United Kingdom in the United States, right?" The Commander asked him. Arthur clenched his jaw and nodded. It had been a long time since he last saw his father and brothers, since he left the Kirkland estate and live on his own after he became a police officer. Last he heard, his father was now living in America as an ambassador, just like Commander Weillschmidt said.

"Yes, but-"

"Then that will make things more believable. It will be easier for you to investigate if you are a part of the school," the Commander reasoned. He smiled at Arthur who couldn't, for the life of everything holy, return the smile. "The Interpol agent that I sent yesterday will help you, Sergeant. You want to solve this case, right?"

"But, Sir! A student?" Arthur protested again. "Why can't I be a teacher?"

The older blonde shifted uncomfortably on his seat. He cleared his throat and tried to look away from Arthur. "Well, to be honest, Sergeant Kirkland; you… don't look old enough to be a teacher. And the school doesn't have any more spot for new teacher at the moment."

Arthur could feel his blood pressure was shooting up to his brain. Was the Commander kidding him? He didn't look old enough to be a teacher? Preposterous! He was bleeding twenty four!

"Now, now, Sergeant Kirkland; I'm not, by any means, insulting you," Commander Weillschmidt said again when he saw the changes in Arthur's face. "But you have to accept this role if you still want to be involved in this case. You can always choose to remain here. But you have to know that I chose you because I know you have the capabilities to solve this. You are one of our best even though you're still young, Arthur."

The young officer blushed at the inspector's praise. "Sir… Please… I'm just doing my duty for my country. And I've failed to capture them all this time, but…" he contemplated for one moment. If masquerading as a student, as embarrassing as it sounded, was needed to capture those bleeding wankers; then a student he would be. "…but I will not disappoint you any more than this, Sir. I accept your proposal."

Arthur stood up from his chair and saluted the Commander. Commander Weillschmidt smiled and then he leant back to his chair. "I thank you for this. You will fly to America tomorrow and meet with the undercover agent in the school." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He will… _help_ you and uhm… _brief_ you with everything you need to know about the school."

The newly appointed Interpol agent frowned at how weird Commander Weillschmidt was acting at the mention of the other agent. "And his name, Sir?" Arthur's frown deepened when the long haired superior gulped nervously.

"Fr-Francis Bonnefoy. A Frenchman," Commander Weillschmidt answered. "Be careful when you are around him; he's... a bit _weird_." He looked at Arthur's eyes sternly, as if telling him that the French agent was a dangerous mad man.

Arthur cocked his head. The way his superior talked about the other agent made him feel a bit uncomfortable. And a Frenchman! Arthur, for reasons he himself didn't know, hated Frenchmen. He wondered how his life would be having a Frenchman running around him. "Al… Alright, Sir."

"Good. Anything you need for the school has been prepared; uniforms, books, a room have been booked for you in the dormitories, and you will be put on the same class as two of my grandsons, Sergeant."

"Your… grandsons, Sir?" Arthur blinked, not believing that his youthful looking superior was indeed a grandfather. He thought that Commander Weillschmidt must be only on his late forties or something.

"Yes, my grandsons attend Hetalia Academy," The Commander smiled understandingly at Arthur's disbelieving face. "Sergeant Kirkland, I might not look like I already have two teenage grandsons, but I hope you know that looks can be decieving. This is why I have to tell you to not ignore any possibilities about the thieves' identities. Remain vigilant and don't make any exceptions, even for my two grandsons. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" Arthur saluted again. He took the thick folder the inspector had handed to him before.

"The folder holds the information you need before you fly to America; your ticket, your flight number; the address of the Academy, your enrolment papers, etc, etc-everything is there," Commander explained. "Agent Bonnefoy will pick you up in the airport. You can contact the Headmaster, Julius Vargas, the moment you arrive at the school. He's an old friend of mine and the one who had helped me with putting agents inside the school. He will cooperate with you and Agent Bonnefoy. Some agents will also be stationed near the school's building and if you find something or in trouble, contact Agent Bonnefoy, or the headmaster, or any agent within the vicinity."

Arthur nodded as he turned over the papers inside the folder trying to get as many information as he could for now.

"That's all, Agent Kirkland."

Arthur looked up from the folder when he heard the change in the way Commander Weillschmidt called him. The other man smiled and stood up, offering his hand towards Arthur. He took the hand and shook it.

"Welcome to the Interpol, Agent Kirkland. I hope you will succeed in solving this case. Capture the thieves and put an end to this."

Arthur smirked. "I will, Sir. I will." _Like hell I would let the thieves slip away from my hands again, _Arthur thought as he stepped out of the Commander's office.

* * *

**Endnote**: I never thought that typing 'Weillschmidt' can be this annoying. Augh… And wow, dialogues much? Also, 1000 words longer than the first chapter? /shots

Pretty much different than the full action in the first chapter, right? The boringness will continue until two or more chapters (of introduction), so bear with me. As I said, it is going to be a long, long ride~

Next chapter will come soon~ Keep that reviews/comments coming, please! XDD

There is actually notes for this story [as in references, character introductions, and whatnots], but since it'll take too much space here, I posted it in the LiveJournal version of the fic. If you want to read, just visit this link: **(http):(//)community(.)livejournal(.)com(/)thewritingshack(/)16575(.)html** , c/p it and delete the brackets.

Psst. A spoiler for you guys; Francis will come in the next chappy~

Lengthy comments are appreciated and you'll get cookies. orz…


	3. Act III: The Other Agents

**Disclaimer**: I'm a descendant of the East Asia's oldest oriental nation, born and live in a South East Asian nation, dreamt of visiting the land of the rising sun nation, in love with two world superpowers nations, but still… I own no nation.

**Beta'd by**: The still as awesome as ever, **ExpressoLatte****  
**

**A/N**: Again, thank you very much for the response. And because I'm damn happy with the response I got here, also my beta had edited this some time ago, you guys are lucky. XD. So here it comes, another boring chapter. But ahe~ There's Francis! I hope it won't be that boring. 8D

**Chapter word count**: 3125  
**Total word count**: 7385

* * *

**Act III: The Other Agents**

Arthur Kirkland was a man with conservative mindset, or style for that matter. The British police officer, now an agent for the Interpol, always dressed up in the most conservative style. On day-to-day basis, aside from his working outfit, he would only wear comfortable and plain coloured button-up shirt, a dark coloured pair of slacks, another plain coloured sweater vest (his favourite was the green one) and sometimes, if he felt the need , a carefully chosen necktie to complete his overall plain daily wear. Oh and not to forget those polished shiny black shoes. That was why, as he eyed the clothes and books in front of him, he… nodded approvingly though half-heartedly.

It seemed like Commander Weillschmidt was really confident that Arthur would accept the order of transferring to the Interpol. Why? Because as soon as Arthur got back home, after packing all of his things from the police station (his colleagues whispered amongst themselves about how finally Arthur was being sacked because he couldn't solve the robbery case-Arthur didn't bother to correct them), he found these suitcases standing nicely in front of his flat's door.

There were plenty of clothes packed into a small suitcase and another medium-sized one filled with school books, stationeries, a laptop, some folders identical to the one the Commander had given him and some weird devices he couldn't identify (he made a note at the back of his mind to ask the Commander about those later).

In the small suitcase, there were three pairs dark-purple chequered slacks, three white button-up shirts, three different types of sweaters and vests, two black neckties and two navy blue blazers with the emblem of International Academy of Hetalia embroidered on the left chest pocket. It seemed like the clothes were his new school uniforms. At least the uniforms weren't so flashy and it kind of didn't differ that much from his daily wear, so Arthur did not have any problem in accepting them.

Arthur went over to the stack of folders and skimmed through one of them. It was filled with the details of the two idiotic thieves' escapades all around Europe. He didn't know until the Commander told him that those thieves had not only stolen in the Great Britain but also in France, Italy, Austria, Spain, and some other countries that was known for their fabulous pieces of arts, and now they targeted some international school. _How low could those prats get_? Arthur wondered. He was shocked to see the total value of all the things stolen by the thieves-all of them totalled up to almost twenty million Euros.

The Briton sighed and threw the folder back to its box. He could go over the others when he got to the school. For now, he just wanted to rest and think about what he was going to do now that he's an Interpol agent. He lay back to his bed, draped an arm over his eyes and the other over his stomach, trying to shove away the uneasiness in his abdomen that he'd begun to experience since that unscrupulous thief ki… Arthur shook his head and slapped his own cheeks.

"That bloody thief…" he grumbled and massaged his reddened cheeks, willing it to go away.

Anyway, for now, it was best that he started to pack the things he would need in America. Looking at the things the Commander had given him; it looked like he wouldn't need to pack much.

--

Waiting for almost an hour, dragging three heavy suitcases of different sizes, after few hours of flying, the whole situation was starting to get on Arthur's nerves (he's jetlagged! Stupid time zones…). He checked his wristwatch again-it was already half past nine in the evening, almost an hour after the plane touched down on the American earth. The French agent surely took his time on coming to the airport to fetch Arthur.

Arthur's stomach growled and he muttered some curses as he tried to contact Commander Weillschmidt. The Commander had told him that Arthur could call him anytime if something happened.

The line was connected but before the second ring, someone tapped his shoulder and slowly the hand moved to his neck. Arthur leapt out of his chair and was ready to shoot whoever it was molesting him. What he had forgotten was that he didn't have his gun at the moment.

"Who are you?!" he yelled at the blonde man in black suit, smiling seductively at him.

"_Bon nuit, Monsieur Kirkland_," said the man in French, bowing slightly to Arthur. "I am Francis Bonnefoy, your partner for this Hero and Knight case," the man named Francis explained in heavy accent, offering his hand to Arthur.

Arthur scowled deeply at the agent. Clearly, that man didn't know his manners. He was first of all, late and secondly, being overly friendly with someone he just met. Trying to be the gentleman that he was, Arthur took his hand and shook it lightly. "Arthur Kirkland," he said, quickly took his hand back before the Frenchman started doing anything funny.

"I offer you my sincerest apology for being late, _Monsieur_ Kirkland," said Francis politely. "It's been a hectic day for the team because we need to install every security measurement we have to the school."

"It's alright, I guess. Where do we go from here? Where's the school?" Arthur asked as Francis motioned him to follow him.

"Mind if I help you?" The Frenchman took one of his suitcases and started to walk away even without Arthur's answer. "We'll stay at a hotel for tonight. It's so late already and I don't think it'll be safe to travel so far in the middle of the night," he said.

"Hotel?" Arthur furrowed his brows and didn't move an inch when they got to Francis' car. "Why can't we just go to the school? We're driving a car anyway, right? It shouldn't take much time to reach our destination."

"_Mon ami_, if you prefer to sleep with a bunch of over-worked men in a small, enclosed space, not to mention you have to drive for full two hours before that to reach the place, be my guest and drive away," Francis said sarcastically. He leant his back on the car to face Arthur. "You can't get to your dormitory room until tomorrow when the kids get back from summer holiday. The only option you have is staying in the mini base the team have been occupying since three days ago. I will not lie to you- it is not a very comfortable place."

Arthur's frown deepened at Francis' explanation. Just what kind of team the Interpol had sent for this mission?

"Wait… If the student dormitory isn't opened yet, then where you've been staying the past three days?"

Francis' thin brow shot up at the question. "What makes you think I stayed in the student dorm?" he asked.

"Well, you're posing as a student, right?"

Francis cocked his head and frowned. "_Non, non_." He shook his head and chuckled lightly. "Didn't your Commander Weillschmidt tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I'm not going to act as a student in the school; I'm a teacher-a French language teacher to be exact."

Arthur's jaw dropped and his eyes almost popped out of the sockets. "Yo-you-you're a _**teacher**_?!" he queried, forefinger pointed rudely at the Frenchman.

"Oui. Now, if you're done with the interrogation, let's go to the hotel." Francis took Arthur's suitcases and shoved them inside the car's trunk. "Don't worry, the agency will pay for it," he added when Arthur still didn't move.

"Why did you get to be the teacher and I have to be the student?" Arthur grumbled angrily.

"I'm too old and…I don't look like a student?" Francis said, didn't sure why his new partner was angry. "Besides, it's easier for us to find the thieves if one of us mingles among the staff and the other among the students, right?"

Arthur tried to stop his mouth from grumbling some more obscenities and forcibly pulled the car's door opened and got in the passenger's seat. He really couldn't believe this whole thing. He turned his eyes sharply to Francis when the car started to leave the airport's parking lot. "How old are you anyway?" Arthur asked, curious.

"Twenty six. Why? Checking me out?" Francis chuckled as Arthur spluttered indignantly at his words.

"Wh-wh-what the bloody hell are you implying, stupid frog?!" The Briton blushed and turned his face away. "You're just two years older than I am. Why do you get to be the teacher?" he grumbled again.

Francis shook his head and smiled to himself. "I think you should ask yourself why you look like you're barely out of high school when you're already twenty four, _mon cher_."

"Shut up!"

After that, they spent the rest of the way to the hotel in silence; Arthur in his own mind, still wondering and cursing the fact that he's a student while his new partner's a teacher, while Francis was concentrating on driving through the night. As soon as they reached the hotel (a luxurious five stars hotel) ten minutes later, Francis told Arthur to just wait in the hotel's lobby while he helped the bellboy with Arthur's luggage.

The moment Arthur stepped into the hotel he was greeted by people whose smiles was so bright he thought he must have been blinded by it. People in the hospitality business amazed him sometimes. How could they possibly smiling all day to everyone? Arthur was pretty damn sure he wouldn't survive even one day if he had to be in this line of work; he was known for having the worst possible temper and would never smile even if someone threatened him to.

Francis took care of the checking-in process while Arthur left to wander around the lobby. He didn't know why but he thought some of the staffs were looking at him and Francis with such a strange and uncomfortable look. _Must be because of that pervert Frenchman_, Arthur thought.

"Let's go, _mon ami_," Francis called him suddenly from where he stood with the bellboy who was pushing the trolley with Arthur's luggage by the elevator.

"Do you have to call me _mon ami_?" asked Arthur when they got into the elevator. "What does it mean?"

"It means 'my friend', _mon cher_."

Arthur rolled his eyes and didn't speak a word again until they reached the floor where their rooms were. The bellboy put the luggage inside his room, after the quick tour over his and Francis' room next door, Francis gave the bellboy few dollars for tips and then he left.

"We-well, I guess it's good night, then," Arthur said nervously. He was wary of being left alone with the Frenchman inside the room, because he was sure Francis wasn't really a normal person after the first time he touched him at the airport.

"Good night, mon cheri. Sleep well and see you tomorrow!" said Francis, he skipped out of the room and waved to Arthur.

Arthur waved back and gulped as he closed the room's door because Francis winked at him, he could feel the cold shiver went down to his spine. Now he understood why the Commander sounded so uncomfortable and a bit wary when he told him about the agent from France. The Frenchman, Arthur decided, was a pervert frog. And he had to make sure the door was locked securely tonight, lest something unwanted happened.

--

The morning after, both Interpol agents went on their way to the International Academy of Hetalia, which was located far out of the buzzing city. They reached the school exactly at twelve noon and it seemed that the school was already bustling with activities even though it was a Sunday. The number of cars lining up towards the front gate was enormous and Arthur was a bit stupefied with the sight before him.

The school buildings were… _huge_ and not to mention so castle-like he had to make sure he was in America and not in Europe.

"Is that really the Academy, Bonnefoy?" he asked Francis who was trying to pull the heavy suitcase out of the trunk.

"_Oui_. I heard that the Headmaster, also the owner of the school, is an Italian man who loves European architecture and thus he built the school like that some thirty years ago," Francis answered, pointing at one of the buildings. "That's the main school building, where the classes and teachers' office are. And that-" He pointed at the building on their left side, where most of the cars were parked and quiet plenty of people went in and out of it. "-is your dormitory."

Arthur was looking at the crowd in for the building and was surprised with the variety of people attended the school. He was certain there must be at least one child from each country in the world.

"I'll take you to your dorm first and then we can go and meet the others. They should be waiting," Francis said.

Suddenly, two young men walked fast past Francis and Arthur, their voices raised.

"I told you already, West! I don't care even if that old man is angry!"

"But, Bruder! You shouldn't have deliberately failed your last year and then embark on a trip to god knows where without any warning when you're supposed to study during summer! Even Grandfather is mad with you."

"Whatever! I can do whatever I like because I'm awesome!"

Arthur scowled as he overheard the bickering. He thought that he had heard the voice of one of the two boys before. But before he could tell Francis, his eyes caught something or rather someone among the crowds of children and teens staring at him intently.

_It couldn't be_, he said to himself. It was impossible and it must have been just his tired brain playing tricks on him. He turned away sharply and stepped behind Francis' back.

"What happened, _mon ami_? Scared on your first day at school?" Francis said mockingly. His hands were slowly creeping down to Arthur's backside. "Or you finally decide to check me out?"

"Watch your hands, you stu-"

"AAAAAAAAARRRRTTTTTHUUUUUURRRR!!!"

Arthur let out an undignified squeak. He was half-determined to get inside the car again. He could only hope his cover wasn't blown away even before he started when the little boy in sailor's outfit who had been staring before, ran towards him and tackled him into a hug.

"P-P-P-Peter? You're here?" Arthur asked nervously at the shorter boy. The boy had the same sandy blonde hair as him and the same thick eyebrows. His eyes were oceanic blue, the same colour as his outfit.

"Jerk Arthur! You bastard! Why did you leave?!" The boy named Peter punched Arthur's stomach lightly. Arthur took a long deep breath and sighed deeply. It was not just his brain playing tricks then; it really was his younger brother there in flesh and blood, trying to break every bone in his body with his hug.

The little boy was Peter Kirkland, Arthur's youngest brother. The last time he saw the young boy was four years ago, after he decided to leave the Kirkland estate and live on his own. Peter, as tough as he seemed to be, was such a cry-baby and always clinging onto Arthur. Perhaps it was because it was Arthur who had been taking care of the youngest Kirkland son since their mother died ten years ago.

Arthur decided to move to the other side of the car to avoid being the centre of attention because of Peter. Francis followed suit with slightly bemused expression.

"Oh! You have relative in this school, _mon cheri_?" Francis exclaimed, still trying to grope Arthur's arse, Peter hissed dangerously like an angry cat at the pervert Frenchman.

"Don't touch jerk Arthur, you pervert!" The little boy yelled. Arthur rolled his eyes at his youngest brother's language. But before he could say anything to the little boy, Francis, who seemed to had saw someone familiar, stopped and raised up his arm, waving his hand enthusiastically

"Ah, there he is-our leader," said Francis, still waving animatedly. "Come and meet Arthur Kirkland, sir! It's the new agent!"

"Well, well, well… If it isn't little Artie~"

Arthur swore his heart stopped beating the moment. He recognized the voice. He turned around quickly and thought that he could just faint then and there. The team's so called leader was a man with flaming red hair and eyes as green as his, together with the same thick-if not bit thinner-eyebrows as Arthur's. The tall man was dressed in formal black suit and dragging a small suitcase with him.

"Ro-Ro-Robert?" Arthur spluttered, backing away slightly at the sight of his oldest brother. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"Tch! Haven't you heard Bonnefoy, Artie? I. Am. The. Team. Leader," Robert said, jabbing Arthur's chest with each phrase. "And you, my _dear_ little brother, are under my command so you better be a good boy." Arthur was willing to bet the smirk on Robert's face turned wider and eviler as he said that. "Although I never thought that you'd join the Interpol too, though."

"Oh? Another relative, _mon petit chanton_?" The obnoxious Frenchman noted amusingly. "But you don't seem to be happy seeing your family, Arthur~" He chuckled lightly seeing Arthur's pale face.

How could he be happy?! Not only he was on the same school as his devil of a little brother, but he was also under the command of his jackass of an oldest brother! He left his father's house not only because he entered the police department but also because he wanted to have a peaceful life, out of his brothers' reach.

Arthur looked up to the sky, Peter still clinging to his waist and Robert still snickering, obviously thinking about whatever evil plan he had in store for his little brother. "Hmm… The American sky is different than the Britain sky, huh," he muttered to no one in particular. He sighed deeply and his head fell abruptly to his chest; his inner self crying in agony over his ill fate.

"It could be worse…"

And so, Arthur Kirkland began his mission to capture the two notorious thieves; Hero and Knight… again.

--

Not far from where the Kirkland brothers and the Frenchman were standing, a particular young man with golden blond hair and eyes as blue as the sky was snickering and then he pulled out his cell phone, speed-dialling his partner.

"Yo, Knight!"

"Shut up, West! I'm answering this!" The young man winced slightly at the loud yell. "Wassup?"

"Little Artie is in the house~"

"I know, I saw him just now."

"Game start, then?"

"You betcha!"

* * *

**Endnote**: I love to torture Arthur? ;D  
The first halves of this chapter are pretty boring, right? Duh! And it's 600 words longer than the previous chapter! |D  
Robert Kirkland, in case you're too lazy to read the notes, is the OC of Scotland-tan. Also used in my other fic; **Two Thousand Years of Remembrance**. For more… READ THE FOOTNOTES!

Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen here, just visit this link: **(http):(//)community(.)livejournal(.)com(/)thewritingshack(/)16575(.)html** , c/p it and delete the brackets (more about the Kirkland brothers~)

Guess who's coming in the next chapter? More characters to come! The action shall come soon, I PROMISE! And another spoiler; fanservice in chapter .... five. 8Dv

If you spot any mistakes (grammars, typos) that probably have been missed by my beta or me, please don't hesitate to point it out. 8D


	4. Act IV: The Academy

**Disclaime**r: Nessie is not mine, the Leprechaun is not mine, the unicorn is not mine, and the faerie isn't mine also. So what makes you think I owned Hetalia? Oh and those magical creatures I mentioned don't have anything to do with the chapter. XD

**Beta'd by**: ExpressoLatte. Thank you for doing another great job, girl. Now rest and don't force yourself to beta the next chapter. WRITE YOUR FIC!

**A/N**: I was not supposed to update this early this week, you know. So thank my awesome beta for another quick update, dear readers. This chapter… Kufufufu~ Guess who's coming?

**Chapter word count**: 3234

**Total word count**: 10619

* * *

**Act IV: The Academy**

"Peter! Let go of Arthur this instant and go back to your dormitory!"

"I don't want to! I _**want**_to be here!"

"Oh for goodness sake, just go back! We need to work, Peter!"

"Hey! Don't smack my head, jerk Robert!"

"That's because **you** are such an obnoxious little brat. Now, scram or I'll tell Father you are misbehaving again! I'll make sure Father detains you this time."

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to tune out the screaming, yelling and thrashing from his head. The four of them-(Francis, Robert, Peter and himself) were seated in the car, trying to keep a low profile. Arthur was seated at the back of the car with a very adamant Peter still clinging onto his arm. Robert was trying to pry the little boy away.

After a few minutes of struggling and screaming, Robert finally dragged Peter out of the car and took him to the dormitory. After that, he got back inside the car and ordered Francis to drive to their mini base.

"So, Artie, you do know what you are going to do, right?" Robert asked suddenly from the passenger's seat, looking over his shoulders and smirked.

Arthur could feel his skin tingling with uneasiness-his brother's smirk had always made him nervous. "Of course I know! I've been in handling this case since the beginning," he answered. "I'm sure I-"

"-And yet you are still unable to catch them," his brother interjected sharply. Arthur huffed and looked away. "You're fortunate that still has some confidence in you. I didn't agree to this actually, you know. You are not even capable of stopping two gits of thieves and yet the Commander made you an Interpol Agent?" Robert gritted his teeth and turned back to the front. Francis kept his silence and looked a bit uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere.

"If I were Mr. Weillschmidt, I would have sacked you," Robert added again. "How many times you've had the chance to capture them?"

"Five…" Arthur muttered his answer, still avoiding the need to see Robert.

"Tch!" His brother spat, Arthur could feel that he must be rolling his eyes now. "You'd better be not screw up this time, Artie. Or I'll make sure you won't be in this line of work anywhere again."

"I know! And stop calling me Artie!" Arthur burst out angrily. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Robert!"

"That's '_Boss_' to you, Agent Kirkland," said Robert, his tone changing drastically from mocking to serious. "Faster, Agent Bonnefoy! We can't waste more time!" He ordered Francis, who just sighed and wondered why he had to be the one suffering the wrath of his so called boss over some private family disputes.

--

The mini base was, Arthur thought, not so mini at all. The size of the base was actually almost one and a half times his small flat in London. The small building was located some two hundreds metre away from the back of the main building. It was hidden from view by the thick green shrubs and some tall trees. What was a small house that could contain a family of five doing in the middle of nowhere befuddled Arthur's mind completely.

As soon as Arthur stepped in to the base, he swore that he must have lost his sense of smell. Towers of empty takeaways were stacked high all over the room, with the monitors and other electronic devices taking up majority of the space. There were a number of people hunched over on their chairs, their seemingly unblinking gaze fixed at the glowing monitors, which was showing a live feed of every part of the school. Now he knew why Francis didn't want to go back here the night before; a dandy man like him would not want to spend even ten minutes inside this… gruesome place.

The team sent by the Interpol consisted of seven agents, including Arthur himself. They were: his brother (the team leader), Francis (who was posing as the French language teacher), Arthur himself (posing as the student), a young Estonian boy who was actually a real student in Hetalia Academy (being the computer freak and genius that he was, the Interpol hired him immediately), a girly Finnish man as their informant, a creepy Swedish man (whose speech was beyond Arthur's understanding) and a Danish man (who was over eager about anything and everything).

After the agents exchanged brief introductions between the seven of them, Arthur, Robert and Francis were once again inside the car and returned to the front side of the school. Now, there were only a few people (Arthur spotted three Asian teens trying to drag their other hyperactive Asian-presumably their friend- into the dormitory) wandering around outside.

"You will meet Headmaster Vargas in half an hour," Robert informed him as Arthur dragged his suitcases out. "He'll tell you everything you need to know about the school- what you can do and cannot do. Francis here will check on you every now and then to make sure you do your work, Agent Kirkland."

"I know! You don't need to remind me every time," Arthur grumbled, annoyed with how his brother seemed to underestimate his ability.

"I'll remind you about this every time until you capture the thieves," Robert added fiercely. "Don't be reckless and use your brain. If you are as smart as I think you are, you will be able to find them in no time."

Arthur turned around, his eyes wide in disbelief. Had his ears gone wrong or did Robert, his jerk of a brother, say something about having confidence in him on being able to nab the thieves?

"Do your job too, Agent Bonnefoy," Robert turned sharply to Francis. "Don't let your perversity block your brain function."

"_Oui, oui_. I understand, Boss," said Francis, scratching his chin lightly.

Robert left the both of them before Arthur could even form a reply.

His brother was really hard to understand sometimes, Arthur thought. He slowly made his way towards the dormitory, dragging his suitcase along the bumpy road.

"Your room is on the second floor-it is number 207. The Headmaster have specially arranged for you to stay alone so you can work without having to worry about the kids. Take the room key from the dorm keeper, ask around for directions and you'll find it. I'll be waiting for you in the Headmaster office, Arthur," Francis said and walked off into the opposite direction.

Arthur's eyebrow started twitching in annoyance as soon as his name left Francis' lips. The both of them had interacted with each other for less than twenty four hours and now they were on first name basis already? "Some people are just so rude," the Briton muttered.

Arthur clutched his suddenly aching stomach. The uneasiness was coming again. Arthur didn't know why, but he was extremely nervous about stepping one foot inside the dormitory. He took a deep breath and took the first step. He could do this-he wouldn't let the feeling of being out of place hinder his job.

Slowly dragging the suitcases, Arthur looked around the dormitory. There were children of all ages walking and running around. He silently hoped that Peter was securely locked in his room-after all; Arthur did not want to attract any unnecessary attention. After taking the key to his room from the dorm keeper (a strange, silent Egyptian man), he made his way through the mass of children and into the elevator.

There were some teens other than Arthur inside the elevator-and all of them were staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world. Arthur fidgeted, uncomfortable with the way the young kids were looking at him. Fortunately, his room was on the second floor, where most of the students on the same year as him stayed, so he could leave the elevator in just a few seconds. As soon as the elevator doors slid opened, Arthur quickly walked out, relief settling in him on the fact that he was not the centre of the attention anymore.

"Wait! Wait! I want to get in too!" A young man with dark brown hair (a single curly hair was hanging by the teen's left ear) ran passed and quickly shoved himself inside the elevator. "I want to see if they have pastaa~"

"Feliciano, you bastard!" another teen yelled. Arthur had to make sure he wasn't hallucinating but this other young man had the same face-albeit a bit more sour-like the other brown haired teen. The teen named Feliciano had his curly hair by his left ear, but this other teen had his curly hair by his fringe, curling to the right side. "Don't fucking leave me here!" _And a rude mouth to boot, too._

"Ve~ Hurry up, Brother!"

The elevator shut close and Arthur was left standing in the empty corridor. He looked around and swore that there were multiple small cameras in almost every corner of the corridor. He scowled deeply at one of the camera and proceeded to find his room. However, there were too many rooms and he had to walk around for ten full minutes before finally arriving at his room-it was by the stairs leading to the first and third floor. Before he could open the door to his room, his cell phone (the one given by Robert when they were in the mini base) started to vibrate, signalling an incoming call.

"Hello?"

"You're late, _mon ami_." It was Francis, and he was using those French words on Arthur again. "The Headmaster is waiting."

"Wait a moment, will you? I have to get into my bloody room first!" Arthur hissed loudly. At the same moment the door of the room beside his opened, and a tall blonde man with a pair of glasses decked out in a pair washed out jeans and an unbuttoned navy blue shirt (he wore a black undershirt) walked out of the room. He had this strange tuft of hair poking out by his hairline (the students here have very strange hairstyles, was what Arthur thinking right now). The man caught sight of Arthur and their eyes met.

"Shut it, frog! I'll go there in a minute," Arthur muttered and then slipped the phone back to his pocket. "Good afternoon," he greeted the blonde man.

"… New student?" This man was certainly didn't know manners because instead of answering Arthur's greeting, he started questioning Arthur instead. The young man leant by the doorframe and looked over Arthur, a small smile creeping up to his face.

"Ye-yeah. I just got transferred here," Arthur answered, blushing because of the sheer embarrassment of having to pose as a young student few years younger rather than his actual age. He had to act like a damn teenager and he hated it.

"Oh! British?" The other blonde asked again, noticing Arthur's accent.

Arthur nodded and tore his eyes away from him-he had realized that the young man had blue eyes and that made him feel a bit uneasy-those eyes strongly reminded him of that thief. He took the cardkey to his room (_Fancy school, fancy security locking system, _Arthur thought) out of his pocket and slid it over the electronic lock.

It remained locked.

Arthur tried and tried again but somehow, no matter how many times Arthur repeated the process, the door wouldn't open.

"Alfred F. Jones."

Arthur stopped sliding the electronic cardkey and turned to the young man again. "I beg your pardon?"

"My name," the blonde said, smiling brightly as he offered his hand. "What's yours?"

The Briton scowled deeply. He should not be too friendly with anyone because every single person in this school was a suspect-except for the kids and women maybe. In addition, this particular young man who called himself Alfred F. Jones reminded him too much of that blasted pervert thief-Hero-with his overly bright blue eyes and that annoying American accent. Arthur banged his head to the door when the memory of the thief kissing him popped up and attacked his brain again.

"Whoa! What's wrong?" Alfred asked, slightly shocked at Arthur's sudden act.

"Nothing," Arthur said, managing to regain his composure and acted as if nothing happened. He returned to sliding the cardkey through the slot again-only to start seeing red when the bloody door refused to open.

"It's the other way around," Alfred piped up suddenly, sounding a bit too close for Arthur's comfort. The American was standing beside Arthur and took the cardkey from his hand. "You have to slide it this way." He turned the card and slid it. A small 'piit' was heard and the door clicked open.

"Thanks," Arthur grumbled, taking the card from Alfred's hand and dragged the suitcases into the spacious room.

"Hey! Name?" Alfred queried when Arthur started to close the door. His hands were holding the doorknob, preventing the Briton from closing the door.

"… Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland," Arthur answered after few seconds of glaring at the young American.

"Kirkland?" Alfred cocked his head to the side. "You couldn't be related to Peter Kirkland and Patrick Kirkland, do you?"

Arthur gulped and shivered involuntarily hearing his other younger brother's name. "Yes…? They're my brothers." He finally admitted.

"Woah! I didn't know Robert has another younger brother! He's my senior!"

_Yo-younger_? Arthur scowled and then realized that Patrick must have just graduated from the school, and Arthur was supposed to be younger than him right now. "Ehem… I've been living in England all this time so…"

"So that means you are old man Kirkland's son?" Alfred asked again. "Awesome! He's a good friend of my dad! My dad is a consul in Britain!"

Right. Now this was getting a bit troublesome. A son of his father's friend was in this school-probably one of the thieves-and if he was not, Arthur's cover would most probably be blown if Arthur's father said anything about his third son to Alfred's dad.

"Yeah. Whatever. Now, Jones… I don't want to be rude but I need to get ready to see the Headmaster," Arthur said, trying to change the topic. He was not lying completely-he _did _have to meet the Headmaster. The Goddess of Fortune must have been on Arthur's side right now because someone was calling Alfred from the other side of the corridor.

"Al! Come here for a sec! I need your help!"

Alfred backed away slightly. "Coming, Matt!" He turned back to Arthur and grinned. "That's my brother. See ya later, Artie!"

Arthur, without taking another glance or checking whoever Alfred's brother was, slammed the door with unnecessary force. He stood still for a moment, the way Alfred calling him 'Artie' was almost like the same way Hero called him-full of amusement and childish mockery. His cell phone vibrated again and he groaned. The Headmaster was waiting for him and Arthur hated it when he made someone wait. He would have to investigate that Jones kid later.

--

Julius Vargas, Headmaster of International Academy of Hetalia, was a very laidback Italian. He was a friend of Commander Weillschmidt hence Arthur thought that he must be as old as the Commander. Well, not only as old, the Headmaster also looked as though he was still in his forties, like Commander Weillschmidt. For two over sixty years old men, the Headmaster and Commander Weillschmidt sure didn't look like it.

"-And you will be on the same class as my cute little grandsons, Agent Kirkland!" The Headmaster exclaimed loudly, breaking Arthur out of his stupor.

"…Right. But I hope you know that there will be no exceptions to who the suspects are, Headmaster," Arthur said. "Every student and staff in this school is a suspect until I can find the real thieves."

"Ahahahahaha! Of course, Agent Kirkland! You're the one who knows the thieves best!" Headmaster Vargas laughed a bit too loudly for Arthur's taste and patted the blonde's shoulder. "Anyone on your 'hit-list' already?"

"I have my suspicions on a few people here, Headmaster." It was Francis who answered the question. "Of course, it is all based on the characteristics our Agent Kirkland gave us. But I'm not really sure yet, so I'll inform you about it later."

"Headmaster, Sir? Do you know anything about Alfred F. Jones?" Arthur asked. Francis' eyebrow shot up and he looked at Arthur sharply. "Aside from the fact that he's a consul's son."

"Oh! The cute American boy?"

_Surely,__ the Headmaster had a much wider vocabulary that didn't just consist of the word 'cute' right?_ Arthur coughed and nodded. "Yes, Sir. He bears a couple of similarities with Hero. Any information, Sir?"

"I can't tell you much, Agent Kirkland. The only thing I know that he's the academy's sweetheart. Everyone loves him and adores him. Quite a little troublemaker he is, that boy, especially if he teams up with Germania's grandson- name's Gilbert by the way-but he's a fine boy! And smart! And cute too! But not as cute as my cute little Feliciano, of course. My grandson is just…"

And the Headmaster went back to his little world again. Arthur sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion was finally taking over him and he really needed a good sleep.

"I think you can go now, Arthur," Francis told him, he tapped Arthur's shoulder and the Briton couldn't help but shy away immediately. That hand was dangerous after all. "I'll send you the information about my suspects later. You can check it using the laptop the agency has provided. Have you checked all of your equipment?"

"What equipment?"

"The equipment that you need to carry out your investigations-your earpiece, laptop, tapping wires, that kind of stuff. Surely you've checked the suitcase sent to you, right?"

"Oh… Those. I've seen them, I'll just check them later."

"Can you manage them?" Francis frowned, scratching his chin lightly. And then there it was, that seductive smile again. "Or I need to _**teach**_ to you how to use them?" He offered with barely concealed snicker.

"No need to emphasize that you've got to be the teacher every goddamn time, _**Bonnefoy**_," Arthur hissed. He knew that the way Francis emphasized teach wasn't because the Frenchman wanted to tease him about the whole teacher-student thing, but more because of his perversity. He quickly fled the Headmaster office, leaving Francis laughing boisterously together with Headmaster Vargas, both laughing for a completely different reason. He thought that he would go insane even before he capture the two thieves if he had to spend more time with that perverted Frenchman.

Even though the day was still early, Arthur immediately fell into a deep slumber the moment his body touched the bed. He was just too damn tired to deal with anything and any thoughts on checking on whatever blasted equipments he got was pushed to the back of his mind-he could do all of those later. For now, he needed his sleep.

--

"So, you've said your hello?"

"Uh-hum. Hehehehe…"

"What's so funny?"

"This is going to be awesome, Knight! I can't wait to start round one!"

"Tch! Of course it'll be fucking awesome. You're talking about me; the Awesome Knight!"

"Yeah, yeah, whateve—HEY! Your chicks are pecking on my _chicken_ burger! They're cannibals!"

"…You _will_ be the victim of cannibalism if you don't stop harassing my awesome pets, Hero."

"Ouch! … Hey! You didn't have to hit me for that!"

* * *

**Endnote**: Dum dum dum dum! *drumrolls*

Yay! Finally Alfred appears! Continue in the next chapter, yo! XDv

Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen here, just visit this link: **(http):(//)community(.)livejournal(.)com(/)thewritingshack(/)16575(.)html** , c/p it and delete the brackets.

Review please. I… need them like I need air. –sniffs- I offer some fanservice in the next chapter so PLEASE! ;__;

But, thank you for all of you who've been reviewing. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!

If you spot any mistakes (grammars, typos) that probably have been missed by my beta or me, please don't hesitate to point it out. 8D


	5. Act V: The Masquerade

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Not even one single blasted Hetalia merchandise! Leave me alone. ;__;

**Beta'd by**: ExpressoLatte

**A/N**: I'm dragging this thing too slow~ Bear with it, people! The action will come soon enough! Soon… yeah… pretty soon… or maybe not? /brick'd. And this is the fanservice chapter I mentioned before. It's just a bit, but I hope it'll satisfy your needs to see more Alfred/Arthur.

**Chapter Word Count**: 2925

**Total Word Count****:: **13544

* * *

**Act V: ****The Masquerade**

There were a few things Arthur needed to bring every day, all of them concealed in his uniform.

First, Arthur had to stick a micro-mini earpiece (which connected him to the base) into one of his earlobes. Robert had phoned him earlier this morning (by early, he meant 3AM in the morning) to remind him about the earpiece. With that, Arthur could accept all orders at any given time via the earpiece. The earpiece came with another micro-mini microphone attached to a military dog tag, so Arthur had to wear it too. '_You'd look manlier with the dog tag_,' Robert had told him.

The microphone itself was quite an amazing piece of technology. It could catch the slightest and softest noise within three feet of the wearer, transmitting it to the base, where Tino (the girlish looking Finnish man) would record and study it for any information. The high sensitivity of the microphone also meant that it would record Arthur's heartbeat, and Arthur didn't like that one bit.

Other than the microphone and the earpiece, Arthur wore his old gun and holster which were hidden safely under his blazer. This meant that he would have to wear the blazer or an outerwear that could hide the small bulge on his underarm at all times, even if the weather was as hot as a desert. The handcuffs were also tucked safely in the inside pocket of his blazer-just in case. Hey, one would never know if the thieves would suddenly decide to appear in front of him, right?

Occasionally, when Robert ordered him to, Arthur also had to wear a pair of glasses that functioned as a hidden camera if the place he was in didn't have or unreachable by the insane amount of security cameras installed around the school. Those 'unreachable' places included the students' dorm rooms, bathrooms and other similar places. The Headmaster had warned him the day before that security cameras were (obviously) out of bounds in such areas as it was a breach of the students' and the staff's privacy.

After making sure that he had all the equipments he was instructed to wear, Arthur stood in front of the tall mirror located at the corner of the room. He couldn't help but sigh and drop his head at the sight before him. That pervert French was right-he looked scarily like a high school student. It was a big blow to his pride because damn it all, he was twenty bloody four years old! An adult!

Soon, Arthur found himself wondering why was it that he had such a youthful looking face and those abnormally thick, bushy eyebrows (Genetics-how convenient of them, huh). His older brothers all looked their age. What he disliked the most was the fact he had to, of all things, dress up as a student. Hence, no matter what, he had to do this if he wanted to catch those two thieves-at least, that was what he had been telling himself since he woke up.

A loud knock on the door broke Arthur out of his reverie. He straightened his tie and walked over to the door to check who it was disturbing him at such an early hour in the morning. _It couldn't be that stupid frog, right?_ Arthur shuddered at the thought. He opened the door slightly and half-heartedly decided he would just shut the door again.

"Yo! Mornin', Arthur!" It was the American boy staying in the next room. "Ready for school?" Arthur looked at the young blonde. Sure, Alfred was all _ready_; the white shirt was not tucked, the necktie was not tied and the blazer was draped over his left shoulder. Yeah, he certainly was all ready for school.

Arthur sighed and tried not to sound too irritated when he greeted back. "Pleasant day, Jones."

"Hey… is that Alfred Jones?" Robert's deep voice suddenly entered Arthur's right ear. Since Arthur could not answer Robert's query without attracting the American's attention, Arthur gave a grunt in response, hoping that Robert would understand it.

"What's wrong? Is your throat hurting or something?" Alfred asked, sounding concerned at Arthur.

"I think he is then," Robert said again. "Berwald! Camera number 379! Ah! It's really Alfred! He was Patrick's junior at school, Artie. You're friends with him already?"

Arthur tried his best to not roll his eyes at Robert's monologue. If he knew his brother would talk to him non-stop like this, he wouldn't have worn this bloody earpiece. "What do you want, Jones?" he asked the American.

"Wanna go with me to the cafeteria? It's breakfast time!"

"…you're asking me to go with you?"

"Hey, Art! You've mentioned something about the Jones boy having some similarities with one of the thieves, right?" Robert said again suddenly. Arthur cracked his knuckles. "Bonnefoy told me."

"Yup! You're new here, right? Since you are, I don't think you are familiar with the way around the school yet, so I thought I can be your tour guide and show you the way around here," said Alfred enthusiastically.

"Go with him. You might find some clues." Arthur could feel his head was hurting slightly. "Arthur! Are you listening?"

"Alright, alright! I know already! Stop bloody talking to me!" Arthur growled angrily, as his grip on the door tightened, almost cracking it in process.

Alfred stepped back immediately, bewildered at Arthur's sudden outburst. "Er… Okay? I'll stop talking," he said, giving Arthur a weak smile as flash of fear briefly flickered his eyes.

Arthur groaned and face palmed. He looked over to the scared young man guiltily. "I… No… Jones. Not you. Er… I mean… Shit. Just, just forget it and let's go!" He could hear Robert's laughter from the earpiece. "Sod off…" He muttered silently.

The younger blonde cocked his head slightly, confused with the other's strange behaviour. However within seconds, Alfred's mega million watt smile was back on his face and he grabbed Arthur's wrist, dragging him out of the room.

"Then let's go!"

--

_This Alfred Jones is too friendly_, Arthur thought as the young American chattered to him happily. The both of them were walking together towards the main building where their classes were held, passing through the rows of trees and bushes along the road. The way to the main building was surprisingly, deserted. _Perhaps the others are still having their breakfast,_ Arthur concluded inwardly.

Earlier in the cafeteria, Alfred started to introduce Arthur to almost everyone and anyone within the vicinity. By the end of the meal (the American boy was eating hamburgers for breakfast!); Arthur must have shook hands with almost everyone in the cafeteria.

It was just the beginning of day one-they have barely known each other's name and in only less than eighteen hours, the young man was already treating him like an old friend. He even dared to drape an arm over Arthur's shoulder!

"Jones…" Arthur grumbled dangerously, he tried to even out his breath, to calm himself. This teen was starting to get on his nerves. _Thank god Robert wasn't talking anymore. _

"Yes?"

"Your arm."

"Oh?" Alfred stopped walking and cocked his head a little, looking at the shorter man beside him with his overly bright blue eyes questioningly. Arthur sworn if he could melt, he would have melted right there and then. The eyes were just so… _not_ cute! Definitely _not_ cute!

"You are breaching my personal space, Jones," Arthur said, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. "And don't you think you're a bit over-friendly with someone you've just met?"

"Huh? But we're friends!" Alfred whined childishly. "Our fathers are friends! I and Gilbo were, um… still _are_ maybe, either way, we're friends with your brothers too! That means we're friends, right?"

"Where the bloody hell did that logic come from?" The Briton scoffed, shaking his head disbelievingly.

Alfred pouted and took his hand off Arthur's shoulder, shoving it into his slacks' pocket. "You're no fun."

"And you're obnoxious."

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are, Jones. Now, would you please leave me alone?"

"But I am NOT obnoxious!"

Alfred stopped his tracks and was stomping his feet to emphasize his sentence.

Meanwhile, perched on one of the trees was Gilbert, Alfred's roommate. He was…

"Now, eat this, cutie little rippy poo~"

"Ciit! Ciit!"

… Yes; he was feeding his two pet chicks their morning meal, which was a mixture of small worms and some grains of wheat on top of the tree. The two chicks looked almost identical with only two things that differentiated them; one chick was wearing a small necklace with a black cross as its pendant while the other was wearing a small frilly collar.

"Hey, Fritzibird! Don't take Gilbird's share! That's not awesome, you know!" he scolded the chick with the collar. The small chick chirped as if it was answering the scolding. "I'm not kidding, Fritzie. If you want to be awesome like me, you have to learn to share with Gilbird."

"-And now you're being childish. You're such a bloody brat, Jones."

"No, I am not childish! I'm a hero! A hero isn't childish!"

Gilbert turned away from his chicks and looked down to see who was talking. And what he found certainly made him ignore the chicks' chirps, which were asking for more food.

Back to the two blondes arguing by the tree rows, Arthur was scowling deeply at Alfred's exclamation. _What does that brat mean by he is a 'hero'? Could it be that he's admitting that he's the thief?_

Alfred was pouting and crossing his hands. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed. _No, it couldn't be. It's not like he never said that he's a hero. He fucking told everyone that in the cafeteria!_

"Right. I don't care, Jones. Now…I'm going to leave you here because the class will start soon," Arthur said. But as he started to walk away, he could hear the small chuckle coming from the blonde American.

"Kufufu~"

Arthur was pretty sure he saw some dark aura emanating from the younger man's body, and then he shivered unconsciously. "Er… Jones? Are you alright?"

Receiving no answers from Alfred, Arthur decided to just leave and continue on his way.

"I told you….. Arthur…"

The Briton turned back to Alfred again and his scowl deepened. "Look, Jones. Stop saying those things and I'll believe you're not a—!"

Arthur could feel his breath was being knocked out of his lungs the moment Alfred grabbed his shoulders and slammed him to the nearest tree. He thought he heard a small yelp and the rustling of bushes behind the tree but he couldn't make sure whether it was real or was it just his hazy brain confusing his ears because Alfred had slammed him against the tree too hard.

"Y-y-y-y-you! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Arthur yelled as Alfred closed in, their bodies meeting together and using one hand, he pinned both Arthur's hands up above his head. Arthur flushed deep red.

Arthur could feel the young American's body heat, the sky blue eyes piercing through his own emerald greens and that hand caressing his cheek really, scarily and positively reminded Arthur of that night when Hero—that fucking bleeding pervert thief!—kissed his lips.

"You see, Arthur…"Alfred started to whisper huskily to Arthur's ear. The tone of his voice was lower than the usual high-pitch and Arthur, if he was still in his right mind, really thought that it was the same as Hero's voice. But seeing as Alfred was breathing right into his ear and almost literally making him turning into a poodle of goo, Arthur thought that it must be his mind playing tricks again. And hear! He even started to hear some curses and chirping from behind the tree.

"Le-le-let go of me, Jones…" Arthur stuttered, his face already as red as a tomato. "Th-th-this is inappropriate and…"

"Oh? You really think so?" Alfred leaned in and blew another puff of hot breath; Arthur swore he just_** imagined**_ himself whimpering. "Then this is the right action, right? A child-" The American's lips ghosted over Arthur's ear. "-would never do this, right?"

"Arthur! Arthur! What's happening there?!" Robert's voice came through the micro speaker. "What is the Jones boy doing? Is he attacking you? Arthur! Answer me!"

Arthur was squirming and with Robert yelling and demanding him to explain what was happening in his right ear, Alfred's lips almost touching his left ear, Arthur felt like he could collapse any time now. In fact, his legs were starting to give way.

"And do you think a child would do this too?" Alfred whispered again before moving his lips away from Arthur's ear. His right hand was now tilting Arthur's chin upwards. The lips hovering on Arthur's cheeks, making the tint of blush even more apparent and as it hovered dangerously close to the Briton's lips, it slowly darted away.

Arthur, who had unconsciously shut his eyes closed, let out a long breath; he didn't remember when he started to hold it. He opened his eyes and was met with the blonde American's mega million watt smile. Now that Alfred's body wasn't literally glued on his anymore, Arthur felt relief washing through his whole body, but he also felt the littlest tint of disappointment. His inner self slapped his own cheeks at that thought.

"Arthur! You look so cute like that!" Alfred exclaimed, his voice already back to its irritating high-pitch tone. His right hand, that was just tilting Arthur's chin, was now pinching the shorter man's nose.

"Let go of me, you dolt!" Face burning with embarrassment, Arthur scowled and wriggled his hands from Alfred's tight grip but to no avail. When Arthur's leg was starting to readying an attack to Alfred's groin; a very, very loud scream was heard not far from where they were, breaking the foreground's silence.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY JERK BROTHER???!!!"

Just when Alfred turned away to see who it was, Arthur kicked the younger man's groin, making him let go of his hands (Arthur thought he heard a small gasp from behind the tree). And at the same time Peter (the one who screamed) was already by their side and delivered a kick onto Alfred's leg.

"Eat this! BRITANNIA KICK!"

Poor Alfred was now grovelling and writhing on the ground.

"That's for trying to molest jerk Arthur, you bastard!" Peter yelled and crossed his arms; he looked down on Alfred with a very evil grin.

"P-P-Pete… It's me… Alfred…" Alfred groaned, trying to show his face to the twelve year old boy.

"I don't care! The fact that you're trying to do something dirty to jerk Arthur remains a fact!" Peter kicked Alfred again for a good measure.

"Peter! That's enough!" Arthur dragged his younger brother away from the poor lad still writhing painfully. He looked at Alfred a bit guiltily. Perhaps he had kicked him too hard in the vitals. "Let's go, Peter. Can you take me to the teacher's office? I need to meet a teacher."

"Of course! Let the awesome Peter takes you, jerk Arthur!" Peter puffed up his chest and took Arthur's hand, the both of them starting to walk away from Alfred.

As Arthur followed Peter towards the main building, he looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see a young man with silver hair coming out of the bushes behind the tree where Alfred had pinned him on a while ago. The silver haired man was poking Alfred and shaking his head.

"You're so stupid, Alfred…" Arthur could hear the young man said with a hint of German accent.

"Gilbooo~" And Alfred was whimpering and clutching the other boy's dishevelled uniform blazer.

"That's what you get for being reckless and stupid… Like usual."

Arthur was pretty damn sure his ears, or mind, was not playing tricks this time because he was positive the young man Alfred addressed as Gilbo's voice sounded exactly like that of Knight's. It looked like he really had to meet Francis now to discuss this discovery. Arthur shuddered suddenly at the thought of having to face another possibility of being violated again.

--

"Uooogghh…"

"Are you okay?"

"I… I think so. Damn, I think that kid broke my leg."

"You're fucking playing too much, Hero. Did you forget our plan?"

"Awww, c'mon, Knight! It's not like I told him anything dangerous. 'sides, it's for the thrill, my friend, the thrill. It'll be no fun if he doesn't have any clue who we are, right?"

"For your information; you left too much fucking clues! Sure, you didn't tell him anything much; you DID too many things to him! And we haven't even started stealing yet!"

"Chill out. I'll bet with every McDonald's free meal coupons I have that he'll never know it's us until we want him to know."

"Heh… Eat those coupons yourself! Do whatever you want. Have you sent the note?"

"Yup! Grandpa Vargas will get it by this afternoon. We just have to wait until those stupid agents move their asses out of their nest."

* * *

**Endnote**: Tada! To make up for the endless boring chapters, has some _teasing-poor-Arthur_ scene, people! But Peter-kun saves the day!

Three things!

I think I… shattered Gilbo's image of awesomeness there. Orz… _Cutie little rippy_ _poo_~

Yes, Alfred was pulling KHR-Mukuro's 'Kufufufu no fu'. –cough-

And wow, Alfred… hit by double combos of Britannia Kick; on his vital regions too. XD

I was having a little bit of hard time when I wrote this (a couple of months ago) but a little cracky chatting session with mah beta-reader, chocobo_ed, did it all. Credit goes to her for the idea of Alfred molesting Arthur. You're on crack. I was on crack. And the story turned into a crack story too, Jillie. You rock!

Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen here as usual, just visit this link: **(http):(//)community(.)livejournal(.)com(/)thewritingshack(/)16575(.)html** , c/p it and delete the brackets.

PS: At this rate, this story will end up more than 30 chapters…


	6. Act VI: The Class

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. Only the plot and the OCs are mine. There, I'm running out of smart things to write.

**Beta'd by**: ExpressoLatte

**A/N**: Moar characters appear! And long boring chapter is long. Orz… Also, if you spotted any mistake, at all; pardon. I'm sick at the moment and don't really have the mood to take a look through this after my beta edited it some days ago. Just... ignore? And read along, people.

**Chapter Word Count**: 3655

**Total Word Count**:17199

* * *

**Act VI: The Class**

"Now, do you understand me, Peter?" Arthur looked into Peter's blue eyes sternly. "You are not to tell anybody that I'm a policeman, alright?" He put his hands on Peter shoulders and looked around; making sure that their conversation was not overheard by anyone in their vicinity.

Peter pouted and scrunched up his face. "But _**why**_? And why are you wearing my school's uniform? Why is Robert staying too? And who's that pervert French blondie? Are you going away again? No! I don't want you to go again, stupid Arthur! Don't leave me! Don't leave me! "

Arthur sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Once Peter started ranting, he would never stop. How long had it been since the last time Arthur had to resort to bribery to shut that kid's mouth? The last time he did that, it was four years ago when Peter cried his eyes out as tried to prevent Arthur from leaving the Kirkland estate. It took both Robert and their father's combined efforts and Arthur's white lie of 'I will be back in no time' to get the eight year old kid let go of him.

"I'm not going anywhere! Be quiet or I'll leave you here!" Arthur told Peter loudly. The little boy stopped his tantrums and cocked his head to the side, blinking a couple of times and looked at Arthur with puppy eyes. Arthur hissed when the image of Alfred's oh-so-cute version of puppy eyes from their earlier encounter flashed across his mind.

When Peter started to pout again, Arthur patted his head and gave the boy his sweetest smile. "Now, listen to me again, Peter," Arthur said again in a more gentle tone. "Robert and I are on a mission here for our boss. We're not here to play. And I'm posing as a student for the job." He paused and waited as Peter digested every sentence he had said. "You must not tell anybody that there are Interpol agents here and you must not tell anyone about my real identity. Is that clear?"

The youngest Kirkland stayed silent for a few seconds. Arthur's blood started to trickle and he really want to get this over with so he could meet the pervert frog to discuss about his discovery.

"Peter? Are you listening?"

"So… You will stay here, then?" Peter asked.

"Yes."

"You will not leave me again with Robert or Father, will you?"

Arthur's chest clenched a little and he cast a guilty look to his youngest brother. The little boy might be too irritating sometimes, what with his constant demand to be recognised as a Kirkland—other people tend to look down on him because of his young age and often compared him with his older brothers' achievements—and unstoppable rants. Nonetheless, Peter was still his baby brother and Arthur had practically raised him since he was two years old (and he raised Patrick too, of course).

Peter had clung onto Arthur like a baby koala since he was just a toddler. Although the way Peter showed that he was glad that Arthur was there for him was a little bit off—calling him names and hit him and other things—Arthur knew that four years of living with only Robert (a full-fledged bully even when he was already twenty nine) and their '_sometimes there sometimes not_' father, with no one to fully care for him must have made the hyper boy feeling lonelier than ever. Speaking of koala, Arthur wondered how his young cousin, Alex, in Australia was doing. The last time he saw the wild hyperactive boy was when Alex and his parents visited the Kirkland family some nine or ten years ago, _with_ a _**baby koala**_ on his neck.

"No, I will not leave," Arthur sighed again and he patted Peter's head. "Now off you go. Remember what I've just said, alright?"

Peter's face brightened up. He gave Arthur a quick hug and proceeded to run away. He stopped his tracks by the intersection of the first floor corridor, turned around, stuck his tongue out and shouted. "I won't tell anybody, jerk Arthur!"

Arthur's right eye twitched as he waved to the boy. He turned sharply when he felt the presence of somebody standing behind him.

"Well, well, well. That's one dramatic scene you have there, _mon petit Angleterre_," Francis said huskily, leaning to Arthur.

"Bloody hell! Don't stand behind me like that, Bonnefoy!" Arthur yelled as he stepped away from the Frenchman. "And what the hell did you just call me?"

"Not my fault you're standing in front of the teacher's office, Arthur," Francis told him as he pointed to the door sign. "And I called you '_mon petit Angleterre'_."

Arthur sighed and massaged his temple. Francis and his French ways and French language were starting to get on his nerves. "And what does it mean, French frog?"

"It means 'my little England'. It's a good thing I'm going to be your French teacher, isn't it? Your French needs quite a bit of help there, _Angleterre_."

"Okay, stop calling me that. Why do you call me England?" Arthur asked again.

"Because you came from England? And your British accent is the thickest I have ever heard," Francis answered, looking at Arthur as if it was the most logical answer one could give.

The Briton growled under his breath and shook his head disbelievingly. "Alright. Whatever."

Francis folded his arms in front of his chest and leant on the wall by the teacher's office door. "What are you doing here anyway? The class is starting in a few minutes."

Arthur coughed into his hand. "Er… I need to discuss something…"

"The thieves?"

"Yes."

"Before that, tell me about your little exchange with this boy named… Alfred F. Jones, I believe," Francis said, his lips tugged upwards forming a small smirk. The small smirk turned into a wide smile when he saw Arthur's face turned crimson. "Oh~ Now that's a very interesting reaction there."

"Wh-wh-what the bloody hell are you talking about?" Arthur stuttered, looking away from Francis' teasing gaze.

"Ah~ _Mon ami_~ Don't lie. Our Boss Robert told me just now. He's pissed off because you took your earpiece off. He had ordered me to find you because apparently, you didn't answer his phone calls. Tell me again, what did _you_ _do_ to the young man?"

The way Francis said that made it sounded like it was Arthur who had something unspeakable to the American, and that pissed Arthur off more than ever.

"What did _I_ do?! Damn you, pervert French frog!" Arthur growled. "I was _violated_ by him! I…"

"Oooh! The young American made the first move?"

Realising what he had just said, Arthur grunted and covered his reddened face with one hand. He turned away from Francis' smirking face and banged his head to the wall. "Urgh… Damnit…"

"My, my, _mon cheri_. First day at school and you're playing around with fire already?"

"Shut it, Bonnefoy," Arthur hissed, trying to push his face to the wall and perhaps let it stick permanently there so Francis could never see his face.

"Ah, ah, ah~ It's _Monsieur_ Bonnefoy, Arthur," Francis said in a fake disapproving tone and that stupid French accent of his. "We're at school. You are _the student_ while I am _the teacher_."

"Fuck you."

"It will be my pleasure~"

"Damn you to hell."

"Language, Arthur~ You're in the school~ And speaking about school, the class is starting now. Keep whatever it is you want to say until later, alright? There are too many people here. Come on, let me take you to your class," Francis said. He patted Arthur's shoulder. The Briton jumped a little from the contact.

Arthur took a long breath, calming himself down and turned to face Francis again after he made sure the blush had receded. "Hands, Bonnefoy," he hissed. "Don't you ever dare touch me again."

Francis quirked an eyebrow, but smiled like Arthur had just complimented him. "Oh! I'm not allowed to touch you but that young man Alfred Jones is allowed?"

The British Interpol agent had to count backwards from twenty to one to keep himself from reaching the gun behind his jacket and use it to shoot the git face's head.

--

"This is the class attendance list and some other information I got from the homeroom teacher," Francis said as they arrived in front of the door to the class some few minutes later. He handed Arthur a folder of some sort containing the name list of the students and simple biodata. "You'll find the basic information about your new classmates there."

Arthur scowled and muttered curses under his breath. "Don't test my patience, Bonnefoy," he hissed, keeping the folder inside his school bag.

"It's a fact, _mon ami_," Francis winked and gave Arthur's back a light push. "Get in. We're already late as it is."

The moment the door opened and Arthur took his first step in, his face was attacked with a rumpled paper ball. The chatters died as soon as the ball fell to the floor. Arthur's eyebrow twitched in annoyance and he tried so hard to keep his anger at bay. '_Breathe, Arthur, breathe. They are just children. Breathe. You're an adult. You're not supposed to lose your patience. Breathe. Do your job._'

"Ve~ Big brother~ What have I done?"

"I-I-It's your fault, you bastard!"

Francis cleared his throat and walked past Arthur. The students immediately sat on their respective seats without saying anything. Their eyes were all locked on the two blonde men stood in front of them.

"_Bonjour_, my dear students," Francis greeted. No one answered the greeting.

Arthur took another calming breath before moving to Francis' side. He kept his gaze firmly locked at the clock hanging on the back wall of the classroom. Arthur felt extremely uncomfortable being the centre of attention like this and hoped to get this done and over with as quickly as possible.

"Well, as you might have noticed by now, I am your new French Language teacher. My name is Francis Bonnefoy," Francis continued, still smiling to the class. "This young man here is also a new addition to your class. His name is Arthur Kirkland, a new transfer student from Great Britain."

Arthur noticed that few of the students started to talk to each other and again looking at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. One very feminine looking blonde boy that Arthur vaguely remembered meeting at the cafeteria stage whispered to his other friend. "Like, totally the bushiest and not fabulous eyebrows I've ever seen there, Toris. Now you'll like, totally believe what I said earlier, right?"

"Feliks! Shush!"

A couple of students snorted. Francis cleared his throat again but Arthur could see that he was trying extremely hard to hide his laugh as well.

"Ah… Let's just start our lesson, shall we? _Monsieur_ Kirkland, you can sit at…" Francis looked around the class to find any empty seat and his eyes caught a hand waving from the back.

Arthur swore his heart almost leapt out when he recognised that gravity-defying golden tuft of hair. It was Alfred and damn it, Arthur could feel a slow blush creeping up to his cheeks. He started to look everywhere in the classroom except at the blue eyed young man.

"Uh… Yes, _comment vous appelez-vous, mon petit garçon_?" Francis asked Alfred.

"Er…"

"He asked you what your name is, Alfred." A girl with two pigtails tied in red ribbons who sat in front of Alfred leant back and whispered to the confused American.

"Right, thanks, Chellee. Umm… _Je m'appelle_ Alfred F. Jones, _Monsieur_ Bonnefoy…?" Alfred said a little bit of unsure with his own answer.

Arthur gritted his teeth as Francis let out a barely audible squeak. He really needed to speak with Robert about Francis' professionalism. This Frenchman was not really doing his job right now and instead making sure Arthur was suffering enough amount of ordeal.

"Well, what is it then, _Monsieur_ Jones?" Francis asked Alfred with barely concealed amusement. Arthur could see the Frenchman's eyes were gleaming with… he didn't even want to know what the pervert was thinking about Alfred right now.

"There's an empty seat here," Alfred said, pointing to his right. A seat by the window was indeed empty and it seemed like it was the only available seat in the classroom. Alfred shot his charming smile at Francis and the Frenchman was practically squirming right now. Arthur shivered a little bit and took one step away from Francis.

"Well, _c'est__magnifique_! _Monsieur_ Kirkland! You may sit there, beside _Monsieur_ Jones," Francis exclaimed a little bit too cheerfully.

If looks could kill, Francis would have turned into a heap of lifeless body right now under Arthur's piercing gaze. But since looks couldn't kill anyone, Francis was still smiling meaningfully to Arthur. "Off you go, _Monsieur_ Kirkland! I need to start the class!" Francis said, giving Arthur's backside a soft pat.

Arthur almost, _almost_, took his gun out from its holster again to fire a shot at Francis. Professionalism be damned.

After making sure the pervert frog received enough amount of his '_as cold as the Atlantic iceberg_' gaze, Arthur begrudgingly made his way in between the rows of tables to where his table was under the scrutinizing looks from all of the students. '_They're just brats, Arthur. Ignore them. You can do it_.' He kept on chanting the words as his nervousness receded.

He put his bag on the table and when his green eyes met with Alfred's bright blue pools—the American was grinning at him—he cast a deadly gaze to him and hissed. "Keep your bloody hands to yourself and stay away from me, Jones."

Alfred's face fell for a moment. The overly-bright smile came back again in just seconds and he put his hands in the air in defensive motion. "I was just kidding, Artie. Don't be mad," Alfred said.

"Shut up, you twat. And don't call me Artie!"

"Awww! C'mon, Artie. I've said my apology, right?"

"No, you haven't. And if you don't want me to kick you again, then shut the hell up, Jones."

"Geez, Artie. Don't be a stick in the mud. I didn't mean to do anything. Chill out!"

"You bloody pervert! What do you mean by you didn't do anything?! You-"

Francis cleared his throat and Arthur froze mid-sentence. Arthur groaned when he realised he was talking too loud and now the whole class was staring at him and Alfred. Francis was snickering now.

"_Est-ce que je vous déranger_, _Monsieur_ Kirkland? Anything you need to discuss with _Monsieur_ Jones _**privately**_?"

Arthur cursed the day he was blessed with the ability to blush so furiously just from a single teasing.

"No, _Monsieur_ Bonnefoy."

"Then perhaps you should sit?" Arthur sat down and tried to avoid the need to see anyone's eyes by looking over the window. He could hear the young American boy's muffled chuckle. "_Merci_. Now, class! Let me teach you the language of _l'amour_!"

--

"This class is fucking ridiculous," Arthur muttered, annoyed with the commotion around him. He shifted in his seat by the window and scowled deeply. It was recess time but there seemed to be unspoken agreement within the class that they stayed in class and made some very disturbing noise to pester the new student.

"You know, student exchange originated in Korea!"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I wonder where big brother Ivan is? Do you know where he is, Toris?"

_Who?_

"Na-Natalia… Don't bring a knife inside the class!"

Arthur nodded absently.

"_Mein Gott_! Bruder! You shouldn't bring your pet here!"

"Shut up, West! Gilbird is an awesome bird! He can go wherever he wants!"

An eyebrow quirked up.

"Ve~ Big brother~ When will we have pasta? I'm hungry~ I want to have a siesta now~ Ve~"

_Me too, damnit. I want to eat some scones_.

"Al? What happened to your leg? Y-you are limping..."

Arthur hid his head under his arms and groaned. He peeked in between his hands to his right side, where Alfred was leaning back on his chair and was speaking with someone who looked alike him. The other blonde had an innocent and clueless look on his face though, much different from the obnoxious prat. Also, he had longer hair, almost touching his shoulders and a wayward hair curling away from his hairline. The young man was Matthew Williams, who, according to the students' data, was Alfred's younger twin brother. _Genetics can be so confusing_, Arthur thought as he noted the similarities and differences between the twins.

"Tch! Don't think too much about your brother's idiocy, Matt," said Gilbert, the white haired German young man who sat on Alfred's right, he patted the head of one small chick with small iron cross necklace. Arthur, who had looked through the students' attendance list, finally knew who the young man was. He was Gilbert Weillschmidt; the oldest out the two sons of a German ambassador named Friederich Weillschmidt and also Commander Germania Weillschmidt's grandson.

Gilbert was supposed to have graduated last year, but he somehow deliberately failed his studies and had to attend another year in Hetalia Academy. He was Alfred's roommate and had a younger brother named Ludwig, who was in the same class. He was prone to deliberately get into troublesome situations and was a regular—together with Alfred—on having detentions. Nevertheless, both of them were still loved (and sometimes disliked) by many.

"But… Gilbert… I hope the both of you are not in trouble again, eh," Matthew said meekly, hugging something white and furry tightly —Arthur squinted and noticed that it was a polar bear plushie. He swore he heard a low murmur of _'who?'_ from the bear—and looked down to his lap.

"It was just a little accident, Mattie. Nothing to worry about," Alfred said, grinning widely at the other blonde. Suddenly his eyes turned sideways and met with Arthur's. "Right, Artie?" he said, his annoying mega-million smile still present on his face.

"Shut the fuck up, Jones," Arthur hissed and looked away. He knew his ears and cheeks were turning red by now. "Don't bloody talk to me."

"Oh dear! Gilbert, the English just have the pottiest mouths, don't they?" Alfred said, turning his head to face Gilbert. "I thought they're supposed to be all good mannered and polite."

"I-! You-!" Arthur faltered. His bushy eyebrows knitted together, forming a thick line when he registered Alfred's first sentence. That, somehow, made him remember the last time he faced Hero (and was kissed by the unscrupulous thief). He remembered vaguely about Hero saying the same sentence. And there were too many coincidences for it to be merely just a coincidence. "Why-"

"The new kid is right, Al. Shut the fuck up," Gilbert interjected before Arthur could utter his question. Arthur's frown deepened at 'the new kid'._ Youngsters these days_, he sighed inwardly. "Some days, I will definitely put a tape over your mouth so my awesome brain wouldn't need to process your annoying voice," the red eyed young man said again.

"Ouch! That actually hurts, Gilbo," Alfred said, put a hand over his chest and acted like he was hurt terribly by Gilbert's words, while grinning widely.

"Moron," Gilbert muttered, rolling his eyes and picking up a yellow bird (affectionately named Gilbird), putting the chick on his shoulder. "Yo, Matt! Let's go to the kitchen! Make me some awesome pancakes, will ya?" he said to Matthew. "Do you have your maple syrup with you?"

"Pancakes at this hour?" Arthur unconsciously wondered loudly, making three heads turned straight to him. He blushed and spluttered before looking away shyly. These kids were making him nervous and he didn't like it.

Matthew cleared his throat, breaking the silence while Alfred was still grinning widely as he glanced at the Englishman sitting beside him. Gilbert was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Eh? Pancakes, Gilbert?"

"Come on! The awesome me is having a pancake withdrawal because I can't eat it during the summer holidays! And Ludwig's pancake is never as awesome as yours," the German young man stood up and grabbed Matthew's hoodie, dragging him away from Alfred. "Let's go!"

Arthur looked at the fair haired German dragging the poor blonde away at the corner of his eyes. He sensed a movement from the American teen beside him and cast a quick glance. Alfred stood up from his chair and was hovering over him.

"Let's follow them, Arthur. You haven't got the chance to tour around the school yet, right?" Alfred said, pulling Arthur's arm and forcefully dragged the flustered Englishman. "As I said this morning, I'll be your tour guide!"

Arthur hadn't had the chance to refuse, much less open his mouth to protest because the brute kid had already planted his arm around Arthur's waist and manhandling the Brit to follow his brother and friend out of the classroom.

And that was the moment when Arthur felt his heart almost stopped beating.

_Alfred had his hand pressing over the bulge of Arthur's __left side where the gun was hidden. _

Somebody up there must have really detested Arthur Kirkland for him to have such an ill luck.

* * *

**Endnote**:

Oh my, the amount of dialogues and abrupt ending is abrupt. =__=;; I need to cut this off before it exceeds the usual +3K line (it already goes off 500 words).

Yes, Mattie has come to the picture. I DIDN'T FORGET HIM! I even put Kumajirou. OTL

There'll be even more characters to be introduced in the next chapter. Don't worry, REAL ACKSHUN will definitely come after that. No kidding.

Meanwhile, feed me with comments because I can't live without it. For those who've been religiously commenting in every chapter, I LOVE YOU GUYS! THANK YOU!

Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen at the new post on my writing community at LiveJournal here: **http(:)//community(.)livejournal(.)com(/)thewritingshack(/)18515(.)html. **just delete the brackets.

There's Matt's short introduction and the list of the class attendees and seating arrangement.

Also, I'd like to inform the readers that the updates will be sporadic from now on. This is because: a) I'm running out of chapters to update b) I'm sick at the moment and don't have mood to write c) College starts again on Monday. But rest assured because I will never abandon this story. I've planned the whole 40 chapters after all. Anyway, until the next update, REVIEW GUYS!


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